I’ll be the Red Ranger
Chapter 176 – Who's that?

- Oliver -

As soon as his trembling hand grasped the ledge of the first floor, a notification flickered into existence before his eyes.

| You obtained 50 Experience Points.

Oliver collapsed onto the cold floor, his chest heaving with labored breaths. Beads of sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the grime that clung to his skin. Nearly a month had passed since this relentless ordeal had begun. Each day blurred into the next, a monotonous cycle of ascent and descent within the towering confines of the Silo.

Around him, the colossal structure loomed—a vast, spiraling staircase that seemed to stretch infinitely both above and below. The Silo was an unforgiving monolith of steel and shadows. While his peers progressed through their training, advancing to simulations and drills, Oliver remained trapped in this purgatory, condemned to repeat the same task.

Especially in the last week, exhaustion had woven itself into the very fabric of his being. His muscles screamed in silent agony, each movement a test of his dwindling endurance. He had reached the top of the stairs only three times, each ascent more grueling than the last. Yet, despite his efforts, the outcome was always the same. Upon reaching the summit, he would be met with indifference or scorn, then promptly sent back to the bottom of the Silo to begin anew.

Now, sprawled on the hard surface of the first floor, he stared blankly at the shadows dancing across the ceiling. His breaths formed small clouds in the chill air. He knew what was coming. Any moment now, a faceless officer would arrive to reprimand him for arriving late and deliver the inevitable push that would send him tumbling back down into the depths.

He willed himself to move, but his limbs felt leaden, his body betraying him after weeks of relentless strain. Instead, he focused on the array of notifications hovering just above him. With a thought, he summoned them into clearer view.

| You have obtained 1 Strength Point

| You have obtained 1 Constitution Point

| You have obtained 1 Strength Point

| You have obtained 1 Strength Point

The incremental gains were a consolation for his suffering. The experience points he earned had dwindled dramatically; the system no longer rewarded him as it once did. Yet, his body had adapted in small ways—muscles becoming marginally stronger, his endurance inching forward.

Amidst the physical toll, subtle signs of deeper strain had begun to manifest. A third strand of white hair had appeared among his dark locks, a stark reminder that he was pushing himself to the brink. The sight of it had stirred a quiet dread within him. Was he finally reaching his limits?

| Status Page

| User: Oliver [Nameless]

| Level: 4 [Knight]

| Experience: [4400/800] [Click to Evolve]

| Credits: 10.810

| Stats

| Strength: 11 [Knight] [Buy for 400 Exp]

| Agility: 22 [Bishop] [Buy for 400 Exp]

| Constitution: 12 [Knight] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

| Energy: 23 [Bishop] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

| Myth: 1 [Unknown]

As Oliver's eyes lingered on the last lines of his Status Page, he once again felt the all-too-familiar shove of a boot against his body. Without warning, he was propelled toward the spiraling staircase, his body sliding down step after unforgiving step until he reached the very bottom of the Silo. The descent was painful, each impact jarring his bones, but he no longer cried out—he had grown accustomed to this harsh routine.

This time, he didn't need assistance to rise. Though his stats weren't yet sufficient to overcome the relentless punishment, he was no longer as debilitated as he had been during the initial trials. His hands were still raw and bloodied, his body a collection of scars and bruises, but his mind had endured far worse.

‘Using the Green Ranger Armor is much worse,’ Oliver thought to himself as he trudged slowly through the dimly lit corridors of the fortress, his steps heavy and deliberate. The cold metal floor echoed faintly beneath his boots. At this hour, only the rejects remained on the lowest level—those that couldn’t make to the first floor in time.

Oliver navigated the passages until he reached one of the last rooms—a small, barely furnished space containing a narrow bed with a mattress so thin it might as well have been paper. After his punishment had been decreed, he was assigned this chamber and separated from Darius. The boy had attempted to visit him several times, but it was futile; any association with Oliver risked incurring the wrath of the Sixth Division's leaders.

With a weary sigh, he collapsed onto the flimsy bed. The springs creaked under his weight. Slowly, he began to peel away his torn and bloodstained uniform. The fabric, once crisp and pristine, was now marred by dark splotches and frayed edges—a silent testament to the trials he had endured. His muscles protested with each movement, a dull ache radiating through his battered frame.

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From a small compartment beneath the bed, he retrieved the scant medical supplies he had managed to acquire: a few strips of bandage and bits of gauze, gifts from the sympathetic children who roamed the lower levels. He did his best to tend to his wounds, his fingers deft despite the tremor of exhaustion. Wrapping his hands, he winced as the antiseptic met raw flesh, but the sting was a familiar companion.

When at last the bleeding had stopped and his injuries were bound, Oliver lay back, staring up at the featureless ceiling. The cool surface of the pillow offered little comfort. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he knew it, the embrace of sleep overcame him, pulling him into a realm devoid of pain and struggle.

Hours later, he awoke to darkness. The fortress's lights had been extinguished, signaling the onset of the artificial night cycle. Shadows draped the room, and the distant hum of machinery was the only sound that pierced the silence.

"Great. Like I don’t need to eat," Oliver thought bitterly, his stomach knotting with hunger. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet on the cold floor.

‘I can't fall further behind,’ he mused, running a hand through his disheveled hair. ‘Even with the [Left Eye of Learning], if I miss the training and can't see what they're doing, I'll completely miss the chance to learn."

"It’s time to use that EXP. First, more stats," he decided, focusing his thoughts. Bringing up his Status Page, an interface appeared before him.

| Stats

| Strength: 11 [Knight] [Buy for 400 Exp]

| Agility: 22 [Bishop] [Buy for 400 Exp]

| Constitution: 12 [Knight] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

| Energy: 23 [Bishop] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

Oliver's index finger hovered over the options before him. "Energy and Agility are already really advanced," he mused. "I need to start closing the gap with my other stats—also, they'll help me face the Silo."

Decision made, he tapped the icon to invest 400 Experience Points into Strength.

As was customary, a massive six-sided die materialized in front of him, its translucent surfaces shimmering. It spun rapidly, the numbers blurring together until it gradually slowed to a stop. A notification flashed across his vision.

| You obtained 2 Strength Points

"Shit," Oliver muttered under his breath, his frustration palpable. "That's not going to be enough."

| Stats

| Strength: 13 [Knight] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

| Agility: 22 [Bishop] [Buy for 400 Exp]

| Constitution: 12 [Knight] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

| Energy: 23 [Bishop] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

He frowned, tapping his foot as he weighed his options. After a moment of deliberation, he resolved to double down.

"Fine," he thought, pressing the Strength icon again and investing another 1,600 Experience Points.

The die appeared once more. It spun with a graceful momentum before halting to reveal a more favorable outcome.

| You obtained 5 Strength Points

| Stats

| Strength: 18 [Knight] [Buy for 6400 Exp]

| Agility: 22 [Bishop] [Buy for 400 Exp]

| Constitution: 12 [Knight] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

| Energy: 23 [Bishop] [Buy for 1600 Exp]

"Still have 2,400 Experience Points left," he calculated. His eyes flickered over the remaining options, but he already knew his next move.

Without hesitation, Oliver invested 1,600 Experience Points into Constitution. Taking a deep breath, he then pressed the pulsating button labeled [Click to Evolve].

| You obtained 4 Constitution Points

| Your level increased to 5

| Your rank increased to [Bishop]

| [Energy Control] was improved.

| [Energy Control] became a Boon: [The Emperor’s Pressure]

As the final message faded, an intense heat ignited within Oliver's torso. It spread swiftly, engulfing every fiber of his being. It felt as though his muscles were being torn apart, each filament snapping only to be reforged stronger than before.

A guttural groan escaped his lips as he stumbled backward. Sweat streamed down his face, soaking into the thin pillow beneath him. His hands clenched the edges of the bed, knuckles whitening as he fought to endure the searing agony surging through him.

No previous evolution had ever been this excruciating. Waves of pain crashed over him, relentless and unyielding. His vision blurred, the dim overhead lights fracturing into kaleidoscopic patterns. Time lost all meaning; seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity.

"What's… happening?" he gasped, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

Unlike his earlier evolutions, which had been swift and fleeting, this transformation was slow and torturous.

At long last, the inferno within began to subside. The fiery pain dulled to a smoldering warmth, then to a faint tingling coursing through his limbs. Gasping for breath, Oliver lay motionless, allowing the remnants of discomfort to ebb away.

He became acutely aware of his surroundings once more—the steady hum of the fortress's ventilation system, the distant echoes of footsteps in the corridors, the cool air brushing against his damp skin. But something was different. He felt… renewed.

Pushing himself up, he noted how effortlessly his muscles responded—a newfound strength and fluidity in every movement. Even his senses seemed heightened; the dimly lit room appeared sharper, details more pronounced.

"I feel… incredible," he marveled, flexing his fingers and watching the tendons glide smoothly beneath his skin.

Compelled to see the full extent of his transformation, Oliver hurried out of his quarters and made his way down the hallway to the communal bathroom—the only place with a mirror.

Reaching the bathroom, he flicked the lights and stepped toward the mirror. What he saw stopped him cold.

Staring back was a version of himself both familiar and astonishingly altered.

"Who is that?" he whispered, lifting a hand to touch his face. The reflection mimicked him, confirming that this remarkable figure was indeed himself.